Authority, community, accountability, respect, history, the past, the future... these things have been floating round in my mind recently, separate threads slowly weaving together.
As 'a people' BDSMers have an identity that is too diverse and complex to be neatly described and summarised. As 'a community' we are a loose affiliation of people with at least as many differences as things in common. There is no uniformity. There is no conformity. There are principles that are widely held – establishing consent, safety, etc. - but it is always a voluntary code. Some play events have dungeon monitors, but most play takes place in private.
There is no BDSM 'police' patrolling our community, telling us what to do, what not to do, what to think, and most people agree that this would be undesirable even if it were possible, but sometimes I wonder – Have we gone too far in the opposite direction?
The irony is that for a people who value, on some level or other, authority, control and obedience, we do not heed any common rules or regulations. As we exercise control over each other we reject any notion of controls being placed upon us. We like Ownership of slaves but we're not so keen on ownership of our own responsibilities...
And so it should be, you say. We are consenting adults, no-one has the right to tell us what to do or to tell us what we do is wrong. And yes, that is right up to a point, the point being that within our sweet hedonistic anarchy that very same laissez-faire state of affairs enables some people to do exactly that – to dictate terms to the less experienced or less confident, to heap abuse on anyone deemed unworthy, to deceive, exploit or alienate the vulnerable.
What can we do? Set up a BDSM Gestapo, put CCTV in every kinkster's bedroom? As much as that might excite some people, alas no. We can't actually make anyone do anything they don't want to do, much as we feel we are in the right. The next best thing is to create some kind of community spirit that values a set of standards to which people are encouraged to ascribe.
Way back in Ye Olde Days there was the Old Guard. They weren't called that then, of course, and they weren't one unified group, more like a broad variety of gay men who liked leather and kink and, to whatever degree, followed a few common principles. Respect those with experience. Start at the bottom and work your way up. Look out for each other. Respect boundaries of ownership, don't hit on someone else's boy. Men with good reputations became role models, someone to look up to. There was a sense of what was the done thing and what was not. That spirit lives on to some degree, among some modern leathermen, and among many other kinksters, but the difference today is that because we have more choices, and so many new vistas, it has become diluted.
There have been many well-spoken and respected figures in modern-day kink, and from them we have the newer traditions such as Safe, Sane, Consensual and Risk Aware Consensual Kink. This fits in more comfortably with the Noughties mind-set as it puts the onus on everyone equally. It's all very cushy and PC. But is it enough? Can't we do a bit better than “Have fun, everyone, but have a bit of respect for each other and try to remember to be careful.” ?
A stronger community spirit would act as a motivation for people to behave more responsibly because the rewards for that are better standing, better reputation, more opportunities to meet like-minded people. The people you meet via such a community will be of a better quality, having passed through the same filter, vetted by their peers. The community becomes something attractive, which outsiders see and want to be a part of. Those with compatible values fit in, those who don't measure up strive to adopt those values.
A kind of embryonic form of this does already exist: those who already have long standing on the BDSM or kink/leather scene are a part of networks of friends, people who vouch for each other's integrity. Newcomers have some reassurance that they are meeting more than a random collection of unpredictable strangers. Get to know one or two members and you soon have a good idea of the kind of folk you are dealing with. There are societies such as social groups, educational and events organisations, even political/pressure groups like the Spanner Trust, and these all fulfil the same functions in regards to promoting a community spirit and mutual accountability. But there is no one, big, central authority of any kind to which everyone can look and feel that: There is something I can trust and respect.
We don't have a Ministry of Kink, or a Round Table of Perversion. There are no Tablets of Stone. I certainly don't believe that a dogmatic prescription of rules of conduct would work, because we are too diverse for a one-size-fits-all approach. But there are certain principles that should be universal when it comes to responsible BDSM, and I don't believe it would be asking too much to work out which ones we agree on. Something like a Charter for BDSM Integrity. Something that can give us a central focus to link us together, something bigger than the sum of its parts, something we can be proud of belonging to.
Maybe I'm being naïvely optimistic, but if enough people want the same thing, who knows what we can achieve?
